


Recollections

by vecchiofastidioso



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 14:27:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2735969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vecchiofastidioso/pseuds/vecchiofastidioso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen has not forgotten his days in the Circle with young Surana. As he and Surana each prepare for the events of Inquisition, miles and miles apart, they both recall a fond memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recollections

            "Serah Cullen."

            At the musical voice, Cullen's senses all came alive, and his body tensed. His heart thumped behind the protection of steel plate, words jumbling up in his throat and somehow managing to find their way out of his mouth. "I-It is g-good to see you, A-Apprentice Surana."

            Ah, but she wasn't having it. It was clear in those luminous blue eyes and the way she stared up at the young Templar. "I-I mean...É-Éimhir."

            The smile the teenaged Elf girl bestowed upon Cullen did him no favours. It drew a smile from him as well even as Cullen desperately hoped he wasn't blushing. "I...saw you, the other day. Playing a game with one of the senior Templars. It involved a board, with little squares and a number of pieces. What was it?"

            Hearing the description of the board setup made the Templar relax and nod slightly. "It's a chess board. F-for the strategy game, chess." He hesitated then delicately offered, "W-would you...would you like me to teach you? T-to play."

            "Yes!" Those big, frosty eyes seemed to glow with delight. The saying 'eyes are the windows to the soul' was ever so true with this girl. She was so innocent, so pure. It was a delight to have the privilege of protecting her--from the outside world, from out-of-control mages, but hopefully never from herself--when she smiled so sweetly. Éimhir's curiosity and excitement were almost palpable.  
  
  


            Even though she had been a novice, Cullen hadn't gone easy on the mageling. But it had been a good way to learn. Faced with an honest challenge, and forced to advance by leaps and bounds to keep up, Éimhir had learned quickly. She was frequently frustrated, and the certain distance Templars were supposed to keep from their charges made practicing difficult. There were no apprentices who were interested in the game either.

            Years later and miles apart from the Templar who taught her, Éimhir picked up the white queen from a chess set on display in an Amaranthine shop. A smile graced her lips, thinking of the stolen hours and the frustration as yet again, she lost to the stammering young man.  
  
  


            In Kirkwall, Cullen picked up the black bishop from his rediscovered chess set, a Name Day gift from his sister. He remembered the frustration in icy eyes, the lilting cry of, "how did you do that?!" from a fluting voice. Even now, he could see those silver strands of hair floating around an Elvhen girl's face and the furrowing of her brow as she tried to understand how she'd been bested, for all her careful calculations.

            "Some day, you'll beat me," the Knight-Commander murmured to himself in mirror of his words that day.  
  
  


            "Some day, I'll best you at chess," the mage muttered to herself with a glint in her eyes.  
  
  


            Cullen sighed and packed away the chess set, carefully wrapping board and pieces in fleece and leather before putting the bundle in his pack. There was much left to put away before he left to join Cassandra at the Conclave.  
  
  


            Éimhir smiled and picked up the chess set, approaching the shop manager with a call of "how much for this?" There was much to buy and people to bid farewell before she rejoined her clan on their way out of Amaranthine.  
  
  


            He would see her and beat her at chess again.

            She would see him again and beat him at chess at last.


End file.
